


Going Without

by Hossyboy



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Death, Happy Ending, M/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3967324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hossyboy/pseuds/Hossyboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That night, clutching Seamus's dead body, Dean would learn what it means to go without. In a way he'd never experienced before.<br/>Then he would learn what second chances really mean...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snatched

Chapter One:

"Hurry it up ya git!" Seamus shouted over his shoulder, the stocky teen already tearing off down the slanted hill towards the dark twisted trees of the forest. A cold breeze passed overhead and shook the shadowed branches to life. Their scratchy voices rising above the muted howl of the wind. Seamus seemed oblivious to the eerie song of the wood.  
Habit had Deans legs moving before he had time to think, chasing after Seamus came naturally, so even now in the face of danger Dean loyally followed the scot into the ominous dark, silently laughing at how he'd practically been kidnapped in his sleep.  
He'd been shaken awake in the middle of the night by a grinning Seamus and out the door they'd gone, without even a single word to each other. In the blink of an eye it seemed Dean was running down the slanted slope beside Hagrad's cottage, the forbidden forest looming ominously before the pair.  
Their footfalls drummed in his ears and the dark skinned boy almost glanced over his shoulder to the school, for fear of being spotted. Almost. Instead he jogged to Seamus's side, their shoulders brushing in the serene and domestic way that summed up their friendship. They were just too familiar with each other to be uncomfortable, they'd stood naked before each other and laughed without even batting an eye, they'd wrestled around in mud, and fallen together in tangled heaps without any distrust or discomfort. That was just how they were, that's just how they always would be.  
Forked shadows danced their way across Dean as he moved around the twisted tree's tangled roots, the full moon peered down at the pair through the cage bars of the treetops. Dean slowed to glance around and Seamus quickly moved ahead.  
The night was viciously cold and Deans breath curled in tuffs of mist, evaporating before he could even draw another breath. Goosebumps sprang to life on his skin and he would have shivered had his blood not been pumping hot with the chase.  
"Seamus!" Dean loudly whispered to the lively boys back, an uncomfortable feeling settling on his spine.  
"What?" Seamus answered, spinning around to jog backwards, the scots deep azure eyes meeting Deans obsidian pair. What had Dean been trying to say?  
"N-never mind." Dean stuttered, his cheeks catching fire in embarrassment as the scot began to laugh.  
"Ya sure be an odd one Dea-" Seamus's face paled for a heartbeat before he tilted backwards mid-stride.  
"Seamus!" Dean gasped. Instinctively he reached forward and grasped his best friends forearm. Momentum though didn't work in Deans favor and soon they were both falling, Seamus having tripped over a root while not looking, straight over the edge of a hill.  
The dark world spun on its head in both their eyes, with both the sky and wood dark there was no up or down. Together they tumbled down the sharp slope, their limbs one tangled mess as they landed in a heap in a giant pile of dead leaves.  
A few moments passed, their hearts hammering, their breaths shallow, their eyes wide. Then a small peel of laughter escaped Deans trembling lips and his whole body shook as his amusement built.  
"It's not funny!" Seamus tried to snap, but he was laughing too. Pushing against Deans chest Seamus made enough room for them to look at each other. The leaves loomed around them, like walls protecting them from the outside world.  
"You should have seen your face!" Dean chuckled and felt his heart pick up speed once more at the sight of a rosy hue blooming on Seamus's freckled cheeks.  
"Oh it wasn't that bad!" Seamus snorted in defense, his eyes falling from Deans in embarrassment.  
"Oh it was." Dean laughed some more but stopped when Seamus's eyes met his, an anger smoldering there.  
"I'm not sum pussy!" Seamus snapped and moved to stand, shattering their protective dome of leaves. Dean noticed the scot used the same name the boys who dared them to do this had used.  
"I never said you were!" Dean argued and rose after his best friend.  
"Yes ye did!" Seamus growled back and began to stomp off.  
Even in his angered state Dean knew better than to let his friend go cool off someplace alone even if that's what he normally allowed. They were in the forbidden forest after all, there was no way Dean was letting Seamus out of his sight.  
"Stop Seamus!" Dean called and reached out to grab his best friend, only to have his hand swatted away by the scot.  
"Leave me alone!" Seamus snarled and turned to dash off into the shadows.  
"Your only a pussy when you run from conflict!" Dean spat hurriedly, desperate to stop Seamus from leaving.  
"Wat tid ya just say?" Anger had always made Seamus's accent thicker, now was no different, even if his anger was directed at his best friend.  
"You heard what I said." Dean muttered and was flooded with both dread and relief as Seamus turned back to face him.  
"I'll shew ya how mutch of a pussy I am." Seamus growled, his eyes smoldering and chin tucked. Telltale signs that there was about to be a fight.  
Dean didn't even have time to take a startled step back before Seamus surged forward and knocked him on his arse. The fists followed soon after, the first connecting with Deans jaw and the next with his stomach, both leaving him breathless and dazed.  
"I hate cha!" Seamus screamed, his face and eyes rimmed red with anger, that was anger right? "I hope ya die ya heartless bastard!" The next fist connected with his nose and the echoing snap made Seamus still and Dean move. A crimson tide gushed over Dean's lips and chin, clogging all his senses with the smell and taste of salt and iron, the taste of his own blood.  
"Dean!" Seamus cried and tried to remove Deans hands from his face. Dean refused to budge, clutching his nose with desperation. "Dean let me se-" Seamus was cut short as he was shoved backwards, out of reach of Dean, who suddenly stood.  
"Don't touch me!" Dean shouted and stumbled away from Seamus, the pain in his dark eyes much more than physical.  
"Dean..." Seamus almost sounded defeated, all the scots previous anger forgotten. "I didn't mean to hurt cha Dean, I'd never purposely hurt cha Dean! You just said those things Dean and you know how I am!" Seamus wasn't sure if he was reassuring himself or his best friend.  
"Shut up Seamus." Dean growled darkly as he staggered over to a nearby tree, his vision blurry with pain. Immediately Seamus did so, when Dean got mad everyone knew to stay away. When the gentle giant was enraged he was worst than any dementor.  
So they stayed like that, dean clutching his bloody nose in one hand, supporting himself against the tree with the other and Seamus tense as a board, his mouth open, choking on all the apologies in his throat. The wind picked up and the trees seemed to lash out at each other, their clashing branches making a ominous racket. Seamus glanced up as a chill began to work its way up his legs, his breath catching as a sudden fear took hold of him.  
"Dean lets get a rock and let's go." Seamus whispered, his wide eyes once again returning to his best friends stiff figure.  
"Then get your damn rock." Dean spat and coughed a wet cough, no doubt from his own blood.  
"Yeah, yeah." Seamus said and scrambled across the leaves in search of a stone. Dean turned away from the sight, filled with an anger he'd never felt for Seamus before. An anger fueled by his own frustration, frustration over what?  
"Hey Dean I found a nice one, we-" a resounding snap echoed through the night air. Dean's thoughts evaporated in confusion and in his ears he heard his heart beat once before Seamus's scream filled the forest.  
"Seamus!" Dean shouted and whirled around to face the darkness. Seamus was gone and his screams were moving away. "SEAMUS!" Dean screamed as he plunged deeper into the woods following his best friends voice.  
Branches clawed at his face and brambles tore at his skin. Roots tripped his feet and he landed hard on his stomach, all the breath in his lungs leaving him in one painful huff.  
Dazed he struggled onto all fours but couldn't find the strength to push himself into his feet, his mouth open hungry for air he couldn't inhale. It was in those few seconds his entire world shifted, shifted and tumbled over.  
His ringing ears heard the fading screams and his best friends last desperate plea. His own name bouncing through the trees, and then Seamus was gone. The only sound left was the howling wind and the restless trees.  
Dean gasped, gulping in air that he choked on. He coughed and sobbed, his face twisted in horror as he sat back on his heels and wailed into the cold air. His whole body trembled and his eyes glistened in the moonlight. Tears rushed down his cheeks, staining his mocha skin a darker color.  
Sobbing he rose shakily to his feet and lurched forward, his body gaining momentum until he was once again racing through the forest.  
"Seamus!" He cried into the forest, running and running. "Seamus!" He screamed, his voice horse.  
"Seamus please!" Dean sobbed, "where are you Seamus?!"  
Babbling and crying like a lost child Dean ran through the forest until he could no longer run. Then he staggered through the wood, searching and searching for the person who meant the most.  
Teary-eyed Dean didn't spot the ledge until he was tumbling head first over it. Rolling down the dirty slope Dean was thrown and beaten by the hard twisted roots the eroding ground had uncovered until finally landing at the bottom.  
Groaning Dean remained still as possible, his whole body ached, thinly smeared with his own blood. His lungs burned and his eyes stung.  
"Seamus." He breathed and again pushed himself onto his feet. Only to fall to his knees.  
Just a few feet away lay a bloody lump atop the decaying forest floor. Sandy brown hair matted with blood and soil, flesh peeled open for the forest to see. Torn clothes barely clinging to the mutilated mess that was Seamus Finnigan.  
Dean covered his mouth to muffle the strangled sob that tried to escape. Hot fresh tears rolled down his dry cheeks.  
"Seamus." He whispered and crawled over to the still figure. "Seamus." He whispered louder and reached out to grasp his friends shoulder.  
Slick with blood Dean's hands slipped uselessly across Seamus's skin, pointlessly he tried to cover a gushing wound at the conjunction of Seamus's neck and shoulder. More and more blood spilled forth from between Dean's fingers until Dean's skin was soaked with the vile liquid and his nose burned with the smell of it.  
"S-Seamus!" Dean choked out, desperate for any response, any sign of life.  
But something about the angle of Seamus's head, the way it lolled around freely when Dean shook the boy and the loss of the mischievous luster in those expressive eyes was unrefutable. Deans heart twisted and his eyes stung with the truth.  
Seamus wasn't behind those dull eyes, his best friend wasn't beneath that torn flesh and broken bone. Seamus was gone and all that was left was a husk, a shell of Deans best friend.  
"S-Se-ea-amus?" He choked out, his mind still stumbling over the facts laid out plainly before him.  
His best friend was dead.  
"No, no, no, no!" Dean cried as he grasped both sides of Seamus's colorless face, even the mans dusting of freckles had lost their previous hue.  
"You can't leave me! I'll get you back to Hogwarts and you'll be all better!" Dean sobbed as he collected his best friend in his arms.  
Standing up proved difficult and he stumbled backwards beneath the new weight. The irishman might be a lot smaller than Dean but that didn't mean he weighed any less.  
Pain lanced through Dean's battered body, he felt a gash in his leg he hadn't been aware of before. No doubt gained from his senseless and frantic run.  
Choosing a direction he hoped would lead him out of the forest, he lurched forward, carefully clutching the limp body in his arms. "Help us!" He shouted, his horse voice instantly stolen away by the roaring wind and the creaks and groans of the ancient trees. "Help!" He choked out before his legs tangled in something and his balance was lost.  
Instinctively Dean tucked Seamus's body into his own, forcing himself to take the brunt of the impact on his back. Agony flooded everyone of his senses and he writhed breathlessly atop the decaying forest leaves. Finally he caught his breath and screamed for what felt like an hour, all the pain and helplessness rising to the surface.  
When his screaming stopped Dean forced his eyes open and fought to disperse the dots limiting his vision, if only to catch a glimpse his best friend. Flanking him was the body of Seamus and Dean rolled onto his side to pull the husk close, his feverish skin pressed against the ice block that was Seamus. It was the last thing Dean would remember before a wave of darkness swallowed him, his whole being sinking into its lifeless depths.


	2. Waking Up

Chapter Two:

Sunlight clawed at Deans eyes like hot talons, digging beneath his eyelids. Over the sound of his own pounding head he could hear the murmur of voices.   
"Dean?" Came a timid call. "Dean?" The voice came again, seemingly emboldened by Deans stifled groan. If this was Ron he was going to strangle the redhead for waking him up so early. It was Sunday after all.  
"What?" Dean snapped, his voice was strangly hoarse, what had they done last night? Dean attempted to roll over When a hot pain spread through him like ripples on the surface of a peaceful lake, a groan of agony slipped free from his burning lungs and Dean realized he was lying on his stomach.   
Carefully so not to make any sudden movements Dean pushed up off the sterile smelling, white bed. Propping himself up on one elbow, Dean freed his other hand to perform the task of messaging his throbbing temples.   
"Seamus what did you do to me last night?" Dean tried to be angry but couldn't pull it off, his amusement trickling into his voice. "I feel like you-" Dean stiffened when he recalled his surroundings, the white beds, white walls and white floors sending a chill down his spine. Why was he in the infirmary?  
Feeling vulnerable Dean sat up as quickly as his agonized body allowed and twisted to search for the lips his name had fallen from previously. The ones he found were slim and pressed into a firm line, not the full bottom lip and heart shaped top lip he was used too. Dread coiled tight around his insides as he lifted his eyes to meet the nurses dread filled orbs.   
"Where's Seamus! What's happened?! Is he alright?! I must see him!" Dean didn't even try to slow his word vomit and instead slid off the bed to tower over her, desperately hoping she'd relinquish answers if under pressure.   
"M-mr. Thomas, I must ask that you sit down." The nurse tried to command him but Dean heard the terrified tremble in her voice.   
"Not until you tell me where Seamus-"  
"Dean Thomas." A booming voice stated calmly and Dean's every muscle coiled in the trained instinct to run. Dumbledore only called Dean by his whole name if he was about to be reprimanded, hence his sudden instinct. The urge to flee hard had been wired in him since his first year. Slowly he turned to face Dumbledore, the despair in his gut twisting and tearing him open like bob wire at the sight of the guilt and pity in the headmaster's tired eyes.   
"Headmaster?" Dean whispered, for fear if he spoke any louder his voice might break and shatter like glass under the sudden pressure in the room. Something was wrong, that much he could tell, his sharp eyes noticing the shared look that passed between Dumbledore and the nurse. A heartbeat came and went and Dumbledore still wouldn't meet his gaze. A sudden darkness descended on Dean and he felt the missing presence at his side become painful instead of uncomfortable.   
"Where's Shay?" Deans voice was loud now in the quiet room and he did nothing to soften his tone, an urgency he hadn't felt a moment ago swamped him. "Where is he?!" He could hear his own voice descend into hysterics yet it didn't feel like his, he couldn't feel his lips move. His mouth was to numb and his body unresponsive to his demands.   
Dean wanted to turn and run from the sorrowful look in his headmasters eyes, he demanded his body to turn and run before Dumbledores lips could move. Whatever the headmaster had to say he knew, deep down he didn't want to hear it.   
His legs though didn't run, didn't turn away, he felt like a stranger in his own body. Like he was in someone else's life, intruding on a moment that would change everything.   
"We tried Dean." Dumbledore whispered defeatedly, he seemed so much older.   
"What do you mean you tried?" Dean whispered, unaware he was leaning forward on the balls of his feet.   
"We never found him." Dumbledore whispered defeatedly, his voice so quiet that Dean was still deciphering it when the headmaster pulled a strip of familiar leather from the folds of his simple grey robes.   
The words clicked and his body began to tremble, with fear, with anger, with despair, it didn't matter. Dean's world zeroed in on the thick wristband of lion hide that had cost him a pretty penny down at Hogsmeade. The wristband he'd bought Seamus for the wizards past birthday.  
'Its awesome Dean! I'll never, ever take it off.' Tears burned in Dean's eyes as the memory of Seamus's voice echoed in his head. They'd had so much fun that night, they'd laughed and laughed together, he realized he would never hear that laugh again. The thought was like a stab to the heart and he doubled over at the agony that crashed through him. His fingers found the worn leather and he pulled it from Dumbledores open hand.   
"SEAMUS!" Dean screamed and pressed his hands to his eyes to cover up the flood of water. Seamus's leather band rubbed softly against his cheek and caught his stray tears, the feel only further reminding him of the gaping wound in his chest. "Seamus!" Dean sobbed and bowed his head until it was pressed against his broad knees. "Seamus."


	3. Without You

Chapter Three:

Shafts of pale sunlight drifted across Deans chest, a sheen of sweat glistening atop his toffee colored skin. Every droplet shimmering like pale slivers of gold, streams of it sluiced over his skin in thin rivulets.   
Just beneath those glimmering streams Deans chest heaved in his desperate gasps for air, one hand over his mouth to quiet his gasps. The last thing he need was from Neville or Harry waking up to find him in this state again.   
Deans dark, inky eyes were blown wide and his lip quivered with the terror that filled his blood like ice water. He'd just woken from his fitful sleep, now he was drowning all over again. Every night Dean fell into the same nightmare and every day he woke to the same one. The nightmare of Seamus's death.   
The sound of shifting and a loud groan drifted to Dean as Harry began to wake, alarmed Dean looked towards the old father clock in between Neville and Harry's bed.   
5:40. Was it really that late?   
Quickly Dean rolled onto his stomach and listened to the sound of Harry's movements, the boy rose from the bed to meet the day. The same day that had rose to meet Dean, a wide awake and trembling Dean.   
More boys rose from their slumbers as the morning slowly ticked by, Neville awoke not long after Harry while Ron was most likely forced awake by a firm shaking. None, though, touched Dean or even brushed against his bed as they passed. He felt the underlying tension in the room and finally the tension became pressure as all three boys stopped at the end of his bed.  
"Should we wake him?" Ron whispered which was a ridiculous notion, the Weasley couldn't be quiet if his life depended on it.   
"No leave him be." Harry answered after a few uncomfortable minutes of silence and just like that the trio of boys left. Dean released the breath he'd been holding. Then instantly regretted the relief that he felt.   
He was avoiding some of his closet friends when they had done nothing to deserve the cold shoulder. Even so Dean couldn't bring himself to call out to their receding footsteps and instead he lay perfectly still, his body refusing to make a single noise.  
When he knew they were gone for sure his body finally returned control to him and he rolled back onto his side, his eyes finding root in the rising sun.  
Finally when he could stare into the glare no longer, he closed his eyes and watched the blue spots dance across the canvas of his eyelids. Moments passed like that, Dean just laid perfectly still and absorbed the warmth of the sun while resting his dark eyes.   
As usual the serene moment didn't last long, which these days nothing happy around him lasted long. Friends tried to chat with him and would all quickly say their goodbyes after several awkward moments. He couldn't focus on his studies and teachers avoided him at all costs while calling names. After awhile Dean just began to skip, he couldn't stand all those eyes on him, filled with pity and remorse for him. It was enough to drive any man over the edge.   
Walking down the hall was too strange now, people never walked along his right anymore as if to respect an invisible memory of Seamus and people seemed to notice him more since he wasn't hunched over laughing at something Seamus had just said.   
Everything ended with thoughts of Seamus and that's why nothing ever lasted around Dean. People drifted away from him, his sleep was fitful and food forever soured in his stomach.   
The world just seemed to have reversed on its axis and left him in the wrong direction, he felt like a stranger to the hallways he'd once shared with Seamus. Everything was upside down while he was right side up and he was falling. So even now, while he lay in a warm bed with the softest of down, he was torn and bleeding from inside. His heart was just a tattered drum, aching with every heavy beat.   
Deans mocha eyes opened to stare at the red cloth above him, without noticing it his right hand went to the band on his left and he began to twist it. Another nervous habit he'd gained after Seamus's-. He couldn't even bring himself to think of the word, especially when describing his beloved friend.   
Moister bloomed at the corners of Deans weary eyes and he sighed as the tears slipped silently over his skin. It seemed he was forever leaking from his dry eyes when he thought he had no more tears to offer, but it seemed he was cursed to cry at the mere thought of his best friend for eternity.   
"Seamus, why'd you leave me?" Dean whispered to the crimson curtain hanging above his bed, betrayal embedded in his tone. "Why didn't you take me with you? That's what best friends d-do, were always supposed to be together." Deans eyes slid closed and he slipped into a restless sleep.   
_________________________

Dean sat at the griffindor long table, tuned out to the rambunctious laughter and cheerful chatter of his fellow house mates. He stared blankly at the untouched plate of food before him that Ginny had made sure to pile high with his favorite stuff. Yet the thought of eating it made his insides twist and turn.   
"Dean." His head snapped up at the sound of his name, his eyes meeting those of Hermione Granger who was seated across from him.   
"Sorry I missed that, did you ask me something?" Dean tried to laugh but he knew it sounded much too forced to be real.   
"Your food." Hermione stated gesturing with her eyes at his full plate. "I said you haven't touched your food."   
"Oh!" Dean said as he scrambled for a good excuse. "I'm not hungry tonight it seems." Again he laughed as now all his friends were looking. "So I'll just head to bed now, goodnight everyone." With a haste he stood, smiling politely as they returned their goodnights, and made his way towards the doors. Ignoring the sad stares resting on his back, he wished he had just told Ron he had lots of studying to do and skipped dinner like normal.  
Once past the doors and down several corridors he let himself relax and his small smile slipped away. He was exhausted. Exhausted of acting like things were normal, they wouldn't act so normally if they could just see. See that half of him was missing.   
________________________

It had been a three months to the day now. Dean stood at a window staring out at the forest. He'd have to be on his way soon, classes were about to get out and he didn't want to talk to anyone today. Not that he ever felt like talking to anybody these day anyways. Today though...   
Dean's throat constricted and he inhaled sharply through his nose. Turning away he made his way down the twisting spiral staircase down to the base of the tower.   
With little concern he made his way towards the wood, watching Hagrids hut wearily, the half-giant had caught him more than once creeping by to get near the forest. Dean really didn't want to hear that speech or be sent back today. Thankfully the wild haired man did not show and Dean passed by unnoticed.   
Dean walked just outside reach of the forests shadow, his eyes on the ground as he crossed the slope to his spot. The place where he and Seamus had entered.   
The grass was flattened here from all the times he'd come out here after a nightmare and fallen asleep. Real safe.   
There he laid down and placed his hands at the back of his skull. His arms bent and spread like wings, legs crossed. Slowly he exhaled.   
"Seamus." He whispered and closed his eyes, feeling a languid breeze pass over, cooling the damp sheen the short trek had left on his skin. He sighed.   
"Seamus." Dean said again, his brow coming together with emotion. "I can't do this without you."


	4. I'll See You In Death...

Chapter Four:

It was a moonless night and Dean stood just outside the forest, listening to its soft, eerie murmurs. To the hushed sounds of leaves whispering against each other, their voices drifting through the looming shadows of the wood.  
It looked as if at any moment the dark of the trees would rip free from their wooden frames and consume him, devour him. But it hadn't so far, not once since that night so long ago when he'd lost his best friend. Three months and five days.  
He found himself here, down the sloped hillside at the edge of the forest, too often. After a nightmare, stolen moments in the day when no one would see, while the sun was setting.   
He always came here to wait and wait, wait for a boy who would never come. Still, he did so and many times fell asleep on the damp grass, waiting on nothing and everything.   
Then he would wake up just before sunrise to crawl back into his bed. Muscles stiff, bones achy and his heart broken all over again.  
On many occasions he prayed for something to come and rip him from the world he was so desperately trying to deny, this world he was stuck in where his best friend was forever lost to him.   
He'd do anything to get back to the blissful life he once had where he laughed and smiled and felt anything but a misery that twisted and stained his soul. Back to a world where he lived, not just existed. That's what he was doing now and he was just barely surviving. An empty husk going through the motions, a robot obeying its simplest orders, eat, sleep, make it through the day. That's all he did and that's all he'd ever do without Seamus.   
In the darkness a twig snapped and Dean was suddenly alert, adrenaline washing away his downward spiraling thoughts.  
Deans previously slack stance was now severely tense. Every muscle stood at the ready and every instinct screamed for him to escape, for him to flee up the slope into the safety of Hogwarts. Because these were the dark woods, the deadly woods. But he refused them, every vein in his neck prominent with the strain and willpower it took to keep his feet rooted in their place. If he did die here he probably deserved it anyways.   
He heard something shift just beyond his sight and all the hair's on his arms stood at attention, a clammy sweat already forming down the column of his spine. His heart hammered against his chest so violently he was sure it would break free from beneath the cage-like bones.   
Another crunch of dead leaves made him jump and he spun towards the noise, eyes wide with fear. His breath caught in his throat, forming an uncomfortable lump that he couldn't swallow around as the shadows seemed to claw forward across the ground towards him.   
A dark figure he had first assumed to be a boulder leaning on a dead pine rose and took a more distinguishable shape. A form he'd heard Harry and Ron whisper about, a shape that had haunted his nightmares as a child.   
Sharply pointed ears swiveled atop a massive head while two gleaming eyes, burning bright blue like the deepest depths of a dying star, seared over him. The sweet chilling kiss of death touched his skin and the blood in his veins froze, icy fear reaching to take hold of his sputtering heart. Frozen in terror and gasping for shallow breaths, he watched as the shadow started forward, it's sharp ivory teeth smiling hungrily at him. Filthy and broken claws were embedded in its flesh, glistening blood oozed from beneath the the yellowed appendages. Dried blood matted the creatures dark fur, gashes were sliced across both of it shoulders and its abdomen.   
Deans life flashed before his eyes and his will crumbled, he twisted to run. He didn't even take a step before the monster slammed into his back.  
Together they fell, the massive weight of the werewolf squeezing the air from him. His terrified scream dying on his lips as the world spun and his face slammed into the ground. A mighty roar thundered in his ears, the hot breath of the beast spilling over the damp skin of his neck.  
Dean felt bile rising in his throat and wished he could turn his head to vomit. He'd rather not be face first in his stomachs contents when his body was discovered.   
A sickening crunch and searing pain snapped him out of his pitiful stupor and a agonized cry escaped him. His arm had snapped beneath the crushing hold the werewolf had on him. Another howl pierced the night air, the pain and fear coursing through him mingling into a concoction of despair.   
"Seamus." Dean whispered, his light at the end of this horrifying tunnel.   
"Hey!" A familiar gruff voice shouted, orange light spilling across the dark grass and over Deans body. It was Hagrid, he'd opened his cottage door.   
The weight atop Dean lessened and fear twisted in his chest. It was going to attack Hagrid.   
With all the strength he had Dean lifted his head and twisted to see Hagird hunched in his own doorway. The groundskeepers old lamp in the half-giants hands.  
"Hagrid! Run!" Dean screamed, tasting blood and dirt in his mouth.   
"Dean?" Hagrid questioned, stepping out into the night and raising his lamp higher.  
Dean tensed, prepared to feel the beast push off him and spring towards the groundskeeper. Instead the weight remained, even though it was significantly less.   
A sharp inhale emanated from Hagrid who halted mid-step, the lamp slipping from his hands to crash into the dark grass, shards of glass flying everywhere. The light though remained, washing over the two body's in the grass.   
Deans long, lanky form and the other; the short, pale and nude body atop his.   
None other than Seamus Finnigan's.


End file.
